


You Worry Me

by mechafeline



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Brief mention of food play, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Smut, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 05:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20902559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechafeline/pseuds/mechafeline
Summary: Crowley turned his head to glance at the angel hurrying towards him, wincing slightly as alarm flashed in Aziraphale's soft blue eyes at the sight of him. "It's fine Angel, really." His face said otherwise. He had multiple tiny cuts around his left eye, which was also starting to swell, dark and painful looking. His lower lip was cut and was still dribbling a tiny amount of dark blood. Just the sight of it made Aziraphale's heart pound with fear.Aziraphale's looking forward to spending an evening drinking tea, eating cake and cuddling with his demon, but since when have these two ever been allowed to have a peaceful evening?





	You Worry Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> So, this is my first dive into making Good Omens related things. Honestly I'm absolutely in love with both the series and the book and of course I had to try and make some Ineffable Husbands content. ]  
I do have a few other, longer, stories in mind but I wanted to get this one done first so I could try out writing these characters (and see if I was even half way decent at it). I wrote this mostly travelling to and from work / on my breaks at work. It started as a simple small thing and became a beast. @@
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!

It was a typical, cloudy English day, and though it wasn’t raining yet a glance at the dark clouds overhead made it clear rain was on the way. Aziraphale walked briskly through the crowded streets of Soho, thinking longingly of the sweater he’d left in his bookstore as a gust of wind sent a chill through him. He was determined to beat the weather home and save the treats he’d just spent a good hour picking out from his local bakery from the inevitable downpour that was coming.

The first few drops of rain hit the top of his head as he finally reached his front door. The sound of movement inside didn't give him any pause as he fumbled for his keys. Crowley had said he had things to do today but _ somehow _ , no matter how busy he claimed to be, the demon always found himself home before the angel. He smiled to himself as he unlocked the door. Maybe, after being out on such a chilly day, his beloved serpent would enjoy sharing a pot of tea and a few of his newly acquired cakes with him. Then they could move on to some wine and then... _ well _, it was best not to think about that too much beforehand lest he be tempted to skip the tea and wine all together.

"Crowley?" he called as he shut the door behind him. The space fell silent. "I'm going to make some tea, it's freezing out there, did you want some?" 

He half expected his demon to come sauntering into his line of sight with a smirk and teasing remark prepared. But none came. After what felt like a small eternity of silence Crowley finally called back, his voice strained, "I'm in the kitchen, Angel, just- _ shit _\- g-gimme a sec, d-don't come up." 

Aziraphale frowned, pausing halfway up the stairs, "Language, dear." He didn't even get so much as an amused huff in response. Not a good sign. Frown deepening with concern, he continued, "Is everything Okay?" 

"It's- I'm- j-just cleaning up," for a demon, Crowley was a spectacularly awful liar. He rarely ever lied, particularly not to _ him _ . Now he was really worried. Aziraphale hurried the rest of the way upstairs, thoughts of tea and cake forgotten, "Angel really it's- _ ohh fuck _."

He rounded the corner, taking in the immediate details as he hurried to Crowley's side. There was an open bottle of whiskey on the table next to him, with no glass which meant he was drinking it from the bottle, a _ very bad _ sign; and what looked like Aziraphale's emergency first aid kit open next to it. It was a basic little thing, something he'd acquired after the Not-apocalypse and their failed executions. Miracles could draw attention to them from either side so they'd agreed to keep them to an absolute minimum. It had taken some adjusting to, but they both had just about settled into 'normal human' life, or as close to it as they ever got. He'd brought the first aid kit just in case one of them cut a finger or sustained some other kind of minor damage, no need to risk drawing attention to them for something so easily dealt with after all. 

Crowley turned his head to glance at the angel hurrying towards him, wincing slightly as alarm flashed in Aziraphale's soft blue eyes at the sight of him. "It's fine Angel, really." His face said otherwise. He had multiple tiny cuts around his left eye, which was also starting to swell, dark and painful looking. His lower lip was cut and was still dribbling a tiny amount of dark blood. Just the sight of it made Aziraphale's heart pound with fear. 

"You don't _ look _ fine, Crowley," throwing the bag of cakes in the vague direction of a counter, Aziraphale rushed around to get a better look at him. "What on Earth hap-" He choked on his words as he took in the sight of his injured demon, all of the air leaving his lungs as his heart suddenly seemed to be trying to claw its way out of his throat. 

Stabbed. Crowley had been _ stabbed _. 

He knew he needed to be doing something. Helping him preferably because while wounds like that didn’t tend to be life threatening for ethereal or occult beings, it must’ve been painful. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. His brain was stuck in spiral, the words '_ Crowley _ ' and ' _ stabbed _' looping in his head over and over. 

Only Crowley letting out a pained huff and wincing as he tried to hide the wound completely from Aziraphale’s sight snapped him out of it. Swallowing and blinking rapidly he finally found his voice again. "_ Crowley _ ," he practically whimpered, his hands trembling as he moved to do something, _ anything _ . The demon's own hand was pressing a blood soaked towel to the wound, clearly trying to stem the bleeding and instinctively he covered his hand with his own, "You... _ what _...?!"

Crowley moved the hand he'd been using to lean against the table to Aziraphale's cheek, gently wiping away the tears he hadn't even realized he’d let spill, "It looks worse than it is," his voice was soft, comforting, but there was an underlying note of pain to his words that broke the angel's heart, "It's just a graze, they- ah- tried to uh, b-but they missed, mostly missed." 

"Was it..._ them _ ? Did Hell do this to you?" A protective rage sparked somewhere deep inside him. If a demon had done this, had tried to discorporate him, take him _ away _... But Crowley shook his head.

"No. Not a demon," he said quickly, wincing a little as he reached across the table to grab the bottle of whiskey. Aziraphale frowned, reaching to take it from him (_ this was hardly the time!). _ But he took a swig before he could stop him, setting it back down on the table with a groan, “S’long story.”

As much as Aziraphale wanted the details, he knew he had to prioritize Crowley’s well-being. He glanced down at the horrible wound in Crowley’s side again, gently moving the towel away so he could see it more clearly despite the demon’s noise of protest. He hadn’t been lying, it was shallow and far from life threatening but the sight of it made him feel ill. Just the thought of how much worse it could have been...

He moved before he’d even consciously made a decision. 

Gently, ever so gently, he rested his hand over the wound and a moment later it was gone. Looking up again he was relieved to see all Crowley’s other minor injuries had miraculously healed themselves too - a risk well worth taking in his opinion. But Crowley was giving him a sharp look of disapproval.

"We agreed no more frivolous miracles, Angel," he huffed, dropping the towel he’d been holding to grab Aziraphale’s hand, which was still resting just above his waist.

“That was pretty far from _ frivolous _, dearest,” he countered, moving his thumb shakily across the unmarked skin beneath it, as if to reassure himself the wound hadn’t reappeared on its own. “You were hurt.”

“I would’ve survived,” Crowley squeezed his hand with gentle reassurance, even if his voice was stern, “Or at the very least you should have let me do it. Hell would hardly give a shit about me healing myself, probably find the whole thing kind of hilarious honestly." His eyes narrowed and Aziraphale could see Crowley's own familiar anxieties surfacing. "What if Heaven decides to come down for a visit because of this? You might not be on payroll anymore but I don’t think they’d like you using your Heavenly miracles to heal a demon. I'm not worth-”

“_ Don't you dare _," Aziraphale's voice was sharp as he cut Crowley off. He hated it when he said things like that, subtly devaluing his worth because of what he was and he certainly was in no mood to hear it now. "You are. You may think otherwise but you are." Crowley's expression morphed into one of visible discomfort and he decided to leave that particular subject there. For now at least. "Besides, I don’t particularly care what they think. And in this one instance, quite frankly, my dear, they can go fuck themselves,” his voice was harsher than he’d intended, but fear and worry had made Aziraphale tired and he just didn’t have the energy to care about anything but Crowley right now. Said demon was staring at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open slightly and, well, he was never one to miss an opportunity when it was presented to him. 

Aziraphale moved forward, cupping his face with both hands and pulling him into an open mouthed kiss that had Crowley letting out a groan for an entirely different reason. Almost immediately his demon stepped closer to wrap his arms around Aziraphale’s waist, pulling them flush against each other and it was his turn to moan softly into the other’s mouth. He hadn’t realized how much he needed this, to _ feel _ Crowley; his unnecessary but oh so treasured heartbeat thumping against his ribcage, and that adorable flush heating his cheeks under Aziraphale’s hands. Undeniable proof that he was indeed alive, _ safe _, and here with him.

Reluctantly, he pulled back just enough to press his forehead to his demon’s. “You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” 

Crowley let out a long breath, clearly not happy but also not willing to push it. “I’m sorry I worried you.” He felt a hand slide carefully up his back to rest between his shoulder blades, rubbing circles in a soothing gesture that was greatly appreciated.

“What happened?” Aziraphale’s own hands moved down to rest on his shoulders, his voice trembling as he pulled back a little, “Who did that to you?”

Crowley suddenly looked uncomfortable again, breaking eye contact to stare at the wall. “It was ridiculous. _ Stupid _.” He hesitated, clearly not eager to give out any details.

“Please?” Aziraphale pushed gently. He usually wouldn’t, but there were so many horrific possibilities running around in his head, he couldn’t imagine being able to focus on anything until he knew exactly how to stop this happening again.

Crowley sighed in surrender, still not looking at him as he continued. “I was on my way home. I saw a group of idiots with knives harassing a woman in an alley and figured I should get them off her.” His expression turned dark. “She was pretty much still a kid and they were three grown men. Thinking they were hard or something for picking on the easiest, _ unarmed _ target they could find. _ Fucking cowards. _” He scowled, still not meeting Aziraphale’s eyes. “Anyway I got between them, she ran off and one of them managed to catch with a knife me while I was dealing with his buddy. Can’t believe I let a trio of morons ruin my favourite shirt.”

Despite the anger that was curling in the pit of Aziraphale's stomach as he listened to Crowley’s story; and the small, vengeful part of his mind urging him to go out, find those three humans and show them _ exactly _ how very stupid they’d been for threatening _ his _ demon, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. This wasn’t blood-hungry demons, or angry angels; just humans making bad choices and Crowley, oh his sweet, selfless Crowley, trying to stop them.

He pressed a kiss to his cheek, wrapping his arms around his demon’s neck. “My darling,” his voice was impossibly fond as he nuzzled his cheek, “You were so brave, standing up to them without using any miracles and completely unarmed. You saved that young girl’s life.”

“Ngk,” Crowley squirmed, flustered, and glared at the angel, "No. I'm terribly awful. All I did was teach three chicken-shit criminals a lesson. If they're gonna sin they may as well do something worth going to Hell for."

A small, adoring smile found its way onto Aziraphale face despite himself. It was so comfortingly familiar, Crowley trying to justify his less-than-demonic behaviour in the face of any kind of compliment. As if anyone was keeping score anymore. 

As if each small act of kindness didn’t make Aziraphale love him more. 

Before he could say anything however, Crowley quickly tried to change the subject. “Tea. You wanted to make tea when you got in. I distracted you. You bought cake, you should make tea.” Tea did sound good. It _ would _ probably help soothe the last of his frayed nerves. And he _ had _ been looking forward to eating those cakes. But, now he had his demon close, he was rather reluctant to pull away. 

“Hmm. Not just yet. First, I need you to promise me you’ll be more careful from now on.” He covered Crowley’s mouth with a finger to silence his protest. “Yes, we need to keep a low profile but precautions are pointless if you end up discorporated...or worse.” Crowley had soothed the edges of his anxiety, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t stop thinking about what if. What if this hadn’t been humans with a mortal weapon? What if this had been a demon with a more powerful blade? Or...God forbid an angel with holy water. The idea of Crowley being discorporated was bad enough but to lose him _ forever _ ... He grabbed a fistful of the demon’s tattered dark grey shirt, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. “ _ Please don’t leave me _.” He added, his voice shaking.

The demon moved to look Aziraphale in the eyes. “Never,” Crowley promised, his voice low and quiet, but he held his gaze without flinching. “I promise, I will never let that happen, Angel.” He leaned forward to press another, soft kiss to his angel’s lips, pulling away far too soon, “I love you.”

Aziraphale captured his lips again with more urgency, his hands moving up to curl into the soft red hair on the back of his head. Crowley made a desperate noise against his lips, which turned into a whine as he pulled away just enough to speak, their lips still brushing. “I love you too, Crowley, so very much.” 

Crowley surged forward, closing the gap between them again and all the breath left his lungs. The world around them and all his anxieties slowly slipped away as all of his considerable brain power focused on his demon, and how amazing it still felt to kiss him, even after all this time. He didn’t even realize he was backing Crowley down the hallway to their shared bedroom until the demon’s back hit the bed. He hadn’t consciously intended for them to end up here; seeing Crowley injured had rather derailed his earlier thoughts of some intimate time after the tea and cakes, but now they were...now Crowley was arching up into him, his body willing, warm and so very desirable beneath him, he could feel the first stirrings of arousal rising inside him.

He finally pulled away from his tempting lips to trace adoring kisses down his throat, unbuttoning his shirt as he slowly made his way down his chest. “_ Angel _,” Crowley hissed softly as Aziraphale finally pulled the remains of his shirt off, tossing it to the side. His demon’s hands found their way to his waistcoat, hurriedly starting to pull the angel’s layers off as well. After a few moments of fumbling, he shrugged his undershirt off, leaving them both naked from the waist up. Crowley skin turned red under the hungry look his angel was giving him, looking over Aziraphale’s exposed form in turn with a barely restrained growl of desire.

“I would very much like to make love to you, dearest,” Aziraphale’s hands paused on the waistband of Crowley’s jeans. While he was certainly eager to spend the next few hours (at least) forgetting the sight of his lover bruised and bloody; and Crowley seemed very willing if all his impatient squirming was an indicator, concern niggled at the back of his mind. His demon _ had _ been through rather a lot today, he was probably tired and he had a worrying habit of going along with things just to make Aziraphale happy. He needed to ask. “If you’re up for it of course? I know you must be tired."

Crowley snorted, but his yellow eyes were full of affection, “The fact that you think I could ever be too tired for _ this _ is astounding, Angel.” He leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to the angel’s cheek, entirely to chaste for the position they were in. Aziraphale felt him nuzzle his ear and he whispered, “I’m yours. Always have been. Always will be.”

Aziraphale swallowed, blinking away tears that certainly would have ruined the mood. "_ Mine _," he murmured wonderingly, a starstruck smile spreading across his lips, "My most beautiful darling." He pressed another kiss to his demon's lips, gently biting his lower lip as he pulled away, enjoying the groan that elicited. "My wonderful, tempting demon." Tempting indeed. Lying spread out beneath him, his blush reaching his chest, his pupils blown wide with lust and the clear evidence of his arousal straining his jeans; he was the very picture of sinful temptation. "How am I ever going to be able to resist you?"

"Hmm, don't," Crowley offered helpfully with a wicked smirk, moving his hips to help his angel pull his jeans off, "I could spend the rest of eternity, right here, with you." And oh wasn't that a fun idea. Aziraphale could definitely think of a few things he wanted to do, enough to last them the first century or so certainly. "I'll even let you read while you do me if that's what you want." 

Aziraphale laughed softly against his shoulder, the gentle sound turning into a moan as his demon grinded up against him. "I-I don't think I could. I think I might find you rather _ distracting _, my love." 

"I can be distracting," Crowley agreed, his voice teasing, "Okay then, maybe I could cover myself in that angel cake you love so much instead." Aziraphale’s breath hitched as he let himself picture it, and oh Heaven help him it turned him on. He made a noise somewhere between a moan and a sigh, only just about keeping enough presence of mind to move obligingly as gentle hands pulled the angel's trousers and underwear down in one swift, well practiced move. Tossing them to the ground, Crowley gave his angel a lustful smirk, "You like that idea don’t you?" He moved to take Aziraphale in hand, stroking him slowly as he continued. "I like it too. Maybe we can try it next time, hm? _ Fuck _Angel you’re stunning.” He licked his lips, taking in Aziraphale’s groan and the way he bucked his hips into his fist with delighted eyes.

"_ C-Crowley _ ," it was getting increasingly difficult to concentrate, "Yes- I- You- oh _ hnng yes just like that _." Crowley practically purred, leaning up to nuzzle the side of his face as he squeezed the angel's cock, thoroughly enjoying watching him come apart. The thought of letting Crowley stroke him to his end was enticing, but not just yet. With some reluctance, and a whine of discontent from Crowley, he grasped the demon's wrist and pulled him carefully off him. "Mmm, not just yet love. Right now there is something other than cake that I would very much like to taste." Mischief coloured his tone as he moved down his body until he was level with his demon's arousal. 

Crowley's eyes lit up with anticipation, moving his hands to rest adoringly on the back of his head. "You glutton," he teased lightly. Aziraphale's eyes narrowed slightly, locking eyes with him at he licked a slow trail up his cock, smirking as the demon's cocky expression melted away into a look of ecstasy.

"Guilty as charged I suppose," he shrugged, and with a final teasing flick of his tongue around the head of his cock he slowly took him into his mouth, suckling his way down with practiced ease. 

"_ Aziraphale… _" fingers tightened into his hair, drawing a moan from the angel as well. Crowley rarely used his actual name and hearing it slip from his lips as he pleasured him...he could feel his own cock twitch in response. As much as he enjoyed taking things slowly, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to speed up just a little.

A charge ran through the air and before Crowley could ask what the angel was doing using a miracle at a time like this- "** _Fuck-!_ **" he shouted, half with surprise half with pleasure, as lube slick fingers probed his entrance with delicate care. More care than was strictly necessary Aziraphale supposed, humming thoughtfully around his cock as he swallowed him down again, Crowley was more than capable of taking a lot more (they'd explored that already, more than once) but not tonight. Tonight he wanted him to feel nothing but how much Aziraphale loved him, and just how cared for and treasured he was. Anything that might dissuade him from putting himself in danger in the future.

“Oooh Aziraphale-_Angel_...you’re gonna d-discorporate- _oh_ _fuck yes_,” Aziraphale loved this. He loved reducing Crowley to a quivering, desperate mess, so far from his usual cocky persona. It was like a whole different side to him that only he got to see. “Hnn ooh more, please, I’m ready...want you _now_, please.”

And who was he to deny him? With a final swirl of his tongue, he pulled off Crowley’s cock with a rather indecent slurping noise. “Then you shall have me, my darling,” his voice had gone husky, warm with desire, “How do you want me?”

“C’mere,” leaning up on one arm, he held the other open to his angel in invitation, his eyes glazed over with lust. Pulling his fingers gingerly from Crowley’s entrance, he crawled up capture his lips in a soft kiss, completely at odds with how desperate for it they both were at this point. 

Crowley leaned back onto the bed, wrapping his legs around his waist and pulling Aziraphale down on top of him until the angel’s cock was resting over his hole. Another zap of energy filled the air and this time Aziraphale frowned in disapproval. He opened his mouth to rebuke his demon, full well knowing and not caring about how hypocritical that was, but as soon as a lube slick hand made contact with his cock all thoughts of Heaven and Hell and their retributions fled. 

His frown strained and he definitely couldn’t contain the needy noise that escaped his lips, but he still gave his demon a stern (or as close as he could get to stern) look. The demon gave a half shrug. “_ Mine, _” he said simply, as if this was all the explanation required. Aziraphale keened, unprepared for the flash of heat that one word would send through him. It was true, of course. Just as Crowley was his, he was Crowley’s but still...

He needed him. Now.

Moving his own hand to his cock, he guided it to the demon’s entrance. Said demon quickly pulled back, stretching his legs out to give him plenty of room and… "_ Crowley- _ ooh." He pushed in slowly, feeling the familiar and oh so wonderful heat of Crowley’s body squeezing him as he carefully bottomed out.

“_ Shit- _ ” Crowley threw his head back, moaning loudly as he was filled. They stayed like that for a moment, basking in the amazing feeling of being joined bodily, until Crowley’s impatience started to get the better of him. Rolling his hips against Aziraphale’s he practically sobbed, “Fuck me- aha- _ make love to me Angel _ please, n-need you- _ hah _!”

Growling softly, Aziraphale pulled back about half way before thrusting sharply back in again, his eyes locked with Crowley’s wide gold ones. He took in every second of his demon’s pleasure, the way he pushed back against him, demanding more and yet whining and thoroughly enjoying everything he was given. "_ Incredible _. You're incredible, my love, hn you take me so well," he thrust a little harder, leaning closer to suck sloppy, open mouthed kisses on the demon’s collar bone, "Oh my darling, y-yes that's it, do you like that?" 

"Yesss, Angel, d-don't stop," Crowley’s voice slipped into a hiss, barely cognizant enough to form words let alone keep a lid on his more serpentine qualities. "Feels ssso good..._ fffuuuccckkk _." Aziraphale slammed their lips together again, devouring the sound with an answering moan of his own. As much as he wanted to swallow every noise his demon made neither of them had the presence of mind to maintain the kiss for long and they separated again, both panting desperately despite their complete lack of need for air. 

“L-Love you, so much- Crowley I...._ ooohh _.” His hands found a hold on his demon’s hips, holding him still as he practically pounded into him, the bed groaning ominously beneath them. He could feel the end coming but he was absolutely determined to get Crowley there first.

“A-Angel, _ I’m close _,” he knew before he said it. He could feel him tightening and spasming around him, driving him closer to the edge.

He forced himself to focus. “Me t-too, ooh darling where?”  
“Inside me,” Crowley replied instantly, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale’s back as if to trap him there, “Please- need it, need you _ pleasssse _.” The angel threw his head back, moaning loud and desperate. His orgasm imminent, he reached between them to take Crowley's cock in hand, and to his relief that is as all his demon needed.

"** _Aziraphale!_ **" Crowley tightened impossibly around him, practically screaming and shooting milky cum between them. Aziraphale was only a moment behind him. With a groan he pushed himself in as deep as he could go and finally let himself finish. The demon's hips twitched against him, his thighs trembling as he felt the warmth of the angel's seed flood him.

It took a moment for them both to catch their breath. With a sigh, Aziraphale flopped onto the bed beside his demon, letting an arm drape across his chest as they both basked in the afterglow. It was truly wonderful, in a state of bliss, pressed against his demon, his anxieties had well and truly fled for the evening. 

Once he was somewhat cognizant again, Crowley buried himself against the warm, soft form of his angel. "Love you," he murmured, sounding thoroughly pleasure drunk and exhausted at the same time. 

Smiling softly, Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. "I love you too, my darling." Crowley made a content noise and settled to sleep. The angel didn't often sleep but with his sleepy snake curled into him, he was certain there'd be no harm in indulging, just for tonight.


End file.
